


Dark Fire

by SamanthaSeraphimandI



Series: The Shadow of Cybertron [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers: Prime
Genre: Adopted Children, Betrayal, Canon-Typical Violence, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Female Friendship, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Male Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Peril, Rape, Siblings, Sisters, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-11-16 04:57:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18087869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamanthaSeraphimandI/pseuds/SamanthaSeraphimandI
Summary: In the depths of dark Kaon, a major city on the metallic planet of Cybertron, danger and distrust lurk. Sparklings are sold into slavery, traffickers grow rich, femmes are beaten and bruised by mechs and warlords plot in the darkness. Cybertron as a whole is coming out of what would later be known as “The Golden Age”, now it is in shambles as corrupt leaders squabble over the pickings as those further down the economical ladder starve.As their world continues to shift around them, sisters Eclipse and Nightlight struggle to stay alive, stay true to each other, and to stay true to themselves. On a planet on the verge of war, this youngest generation must decide whom they trust…and what side to choose.





	1. Prologue

Three figures crept along the dingy streets of a starlit city, flitting from shadow to shadow like bats.

The first one was the largest, with bright green optics that pierced the night. She sped warily along, always ready to flee at the slightest sign of pursuit. Behind her crept two much smaller figures, one slightly surer of itself. In the dimness of the lower levels of the city, the only thing that could be seen properly were the glowing optics of the three figures. The slightly larger of the two child-sized (compared to the larger one) figures had wide, violet optics that spoke her words before she said them. The second was smaller, though bolder. This last one tried to be first in the little line of humanoids as they crept along, but was pulled back each time by the largest figure.

The strange lights that glowed from their necks, legs and ankles were called “biolights.” The largest femme (as the female Cybertronians were called) had pale yellow biolights and - once she stepped past a street lamp - black and teal paint. She had a striking design on her head, usually called a helm and a set of darker teal wings down her back like the wing coverings of an overly large cockroach.

The larger of the two “children,” or rather Sparklings, had soft purple biolights that matched her intelligent optics. She was a muted, though rich shade of brown, like chocolate with black “hands,” or servos. Her face was cream colored, with gold stripes painted on it to accentuate her optics.

The smaller Sparkling had rose-red biolights and golden yellow opitcs. Her paint was mostly an autumn orange, with a few ochre panels. Her face was painted a delicate blush-red. Her optics were not at all like her elder sister’s. They had a direct, almost hard stare that demanded the truest of answers. Other than this expression, they had almost no sign of emotion hidden in them. As such, the third member of the trio was disturbing in a way that was hard to vocalize.

Soon, the little group reached an alley. How the lead Cybertronian knew it from all the others that they had passed or filed silently through was impossible to tell. In any case, all three femmes crept inside. They soon reached a door at the very end of the alley, and - at the teal femme’s insistence - went through it. Beneath their feet, the floor began to tilt downwards, gradually, so as not to catch them unawares. It was rather like climbing into the dark maw of some huge creature.

There was, of all things, light spilling through a small doorway at the bottom. Reassured by the presence of light, no matter how tainted and flickering it might be, the little violet-opticked femme ran towards it. The teal femme made no move to stop her, but the other Sparkling reached out a small servo and started towards her sister, as though in an attempt to restrain her. She tried to cry out, but her voice - as was usual for her - was barely more than a hoarse croak.

Unchecked, the first Sparkling ran headlong into the room beyond. As soon as she stepped over the threshold, a pair of huge arms seized her. One servo pinned her arms to her sides, and the other stifled her screams.

Horror froze the other Sparkling in her tracks; but an instant later, she was launching herself at her sister’s captor. Snarling and kicking, she jumped - astoundingly high for one so small - and latched onto the huge Cybertronian’s arm. Then the crazy little creature started pummeling the arm with her tiny fists.

She actually succeeded in making a few small dents before a second, slightly smaller pair of servos seized her from behind and gently but firmly pried her off her victim. As though handling an angry and frightened cat, the smaller Cybertronian began to stroke the Sparkling’s helm. “There, now. Don’t be angry; we just wanted to test your mettle a bit, little warrior.” The black and puce mechanoid said, in a voice like energon leaking from a wound. He turned back to the larger mech, as the Cybertronian males were called. “Set her down, and get me some cuffs for this one.”

The teal femme entered, as soon as she had seen that both of her charges were secure. “Well, Gambit? Are you satisfied?”

Gambit smirked. “Of course. They’re both beautiful, in their own ways. This one -“  he indicated the purple femme “is obviously going to graft into a beautiful adult frame.” His optics lingered on her face, now tear-stained, for a little longer then they should have. “The other is…quite singular. She has a fierce little Spark, and red biolights to boot. It’s off to the gladiatorial pits for her.”

“But…but she’s a femme! She’s too small! She’ll - they’re all so big - they’ll tear her to pieces!”

“Not once she’s trained. Remember, everything I buy as young as this is a careful investment. I won’t set her loose in a ring until she’s good and ready. Besides,” he flashed her a confidant grin “I am their owner now. And what I say goes.” His voice hardened “So here is your credit. Forty-thousand dekijees for the both of them.” He handed the teal femme a box that rattled when she took it from him.

After one last look at the two bitlets, the teal femme put the box under her arm and walked slowly back out. As she left, another motley group came in. This time it was a mech with a smaller, silvery bot with no biolights. The Sparkless drone carried a kicking and punching Sparkling mech with bright blue biolights. He was gagged but he made great use of his peds and got in a few kicks to the mech’s backstrut. The larger mech ignored them, but jerked each time the little mech’s pedes made contact. His biolights were a lime green, and his frame used to be brown but was now more rust than paint. He growled an order to the drone and it dropped the irate Sparkling on the floor in a heap.

“Well. What do we have here?” Gambit asked, stooping with the yellow opticked femme still secure in his strong servos. The little mech hissed, his red optics flashing with rage.

“A foundling.” Grated the rusty mech, massaging his backstrut. “I couldn’t find his Creators, so of course I came to you.”

“Ah. But of course. And you know how good I am at finding the correct Creators…I usually end up ‘adopting’ them.” Gambit said, a poisonous smile on his face. “I’m so generous…” he ran a clawed digit along the Sparkling mech’s neck. He very sensibly held still, feeling the throb of the energon as it was pumped at high pressure beneath that merciless claw. His little optics fixed on Gambit’s puce ones, fear mixing with anger. The result was an unflinching stare.

Gambit laughed. “Ah! I have been outmatched! Little one, come, tell me your name. It must be a good one, for someone who is so brave and at such a young age.”

Gambit’s claws sliced off the gag and the Sparkling mech spat at him. Gambit dodged it easily, as though he were used to doing so. The little mech added, in a high but firm voice: “My Carrier calls me Jazz, for she loves the night music.”

“Your Carrier? What of your Sire?” Gambit asked, in mock surprise.

Not catching the humor, Jazz continued. “My Carrier found me and she loves me. I have two brothers, and Carrier has no bond-mate or siblings. She is very beautiful and makes the arts.” He nodded solemnly, as though attesting in the high court.

Gambit smirked. “A true foundling. Very well; let us just say, young Jazz, that you have found a new Creator.”

Jazz opened his mouth to object, outraged. But Gambit continued speaking.

“You clearly have a problem with wandering off, and obeying your Creators. We’ll have to fix that.”

“I-I never! This bad-mech caught me, took me away from Carrier-!”

“Hush, mechling! This honorable citizen of Kaon saved you when you were lost and brought you to me, the generous benefactor of all little lost Sparklings. You, young mech-“ here he got close enough to tap Jazz on the nasal ridge, but the Sparkling tried to bite him and he withdrew his servo “are now under my patronage. As such, you shall sup at my table until your Creator is found or…I find something more useful for you to do.” Gambit smiled sinisterly.

Jazz’s mouth snapped shut. He glared wordlessly at Gambit, the corners of his scarlet optics now tinged purple.

Gambit’s smile widened. “You see? I know what’s best. Now, go along quietly with Mixmaster here and these two young femmes, and - who knows? You’re both good stock; maybe once you’re of age, I’ll pair you two up.” He smirked at the older of the two femme Sparklings, the one with the lavender optics. Her designation was Nightlight, named for her softly undulating biolights. She had no idea what Gambit was talking about but was hardly going to ask under the circumstances. She was still crying softly and staring at the door that her carrier had used to depart. Her sister, Eclipse was glaring balefully at Gambit with her servos now secure behind her backstrut.

“Why?” The single word, a pitiful, helpless question broke from Nightlight. She turned from the door and fixed Gambit with a look that would have thawed a glacier.

Gambit frowned. “’Why?’ what?” he asked flatly.

More tears slid down Nightlight’s cream-colored face, the gold stripes shining through the blue cleanser. “Why…why would she leave us?”

Gambit snorted. “Because, as of the death of your honored sire, she has more need for dekijees and shanix then she does for two daughters. Now, off with you.”

“’Dekijees’? ‘Shanix’? What are those -?”

Gambit laughed disbelievingly. “You two little pets don’t know what currency is!? What - don’t you bathe in it like other wealthy Towersbot spawn?” He asked incredulously.

Nightlight’s only response was to stare at him for a few seconds, then redouble her sobs. Gambit stared at her with an unreadable expression for a few seconds, then produced a rag from his subspace and offered it to her. She slapped his servo aside and ran to Eclipse, pressing her tear streaked face against her sister’s ornate, golden-yellow shoulder.

In a woebegone train, with Mixmaster in front with Jazz securely pinned, Nightlight being pushed along behind him, and Gambit in the back leading the bound Eclipse by the arm.

After a few moments of silence, punctuated only by Nightlights sobs, a rough, small voice said gently: “Ca…carrier…your carrier…does not…want…me. Anymore. She…always…liked you better. I…asked her…to keep you. And sell me. But she…broke…her…word. She did the lying. I hate her,” The barest hint of emotion entered Eclipse’s last statement, her yellow optics glaring coldly at Gambit.

Once she got her grief under control, Nightlight said: “I…am glad that we are together, sister. You are…strong. You were…right. About carrier. I am…sorry. I did not deserve to be kept.”

Eclipse emitted a low growl. “Do…not…chalk…talk like…that. You…are my…sister. We…always love…always forgive.”

Nightlight locked her large, violet optics with her younger sister’s. “We’ll stay together, right? You won’t try to get…sold…without me again, right?”

Eclipse looked away.

Sensing denial, Nightlight latched onto the arm that Gambit was not holding in his clawed servo. “Promise me, Eclipse! Promise me on sire’s...on sire’s helm!”

For a brief moment, Eclipse stopped. With a growl, Mixmaster turned to urge them on, but Gambit held up his servo to silence his henchmech. “Hush. Let them work it out.”

Mixmaster looked confusedly at his leader.

Gambit shrugged. “It is a family matter.”

Nightlight tugged at her sister’s arm, as though pulling her back to the conversation. “Clipper? Come on, you’ve got to prom -!”

“I promise no such thing.”

Nightlight stared at her. “But! We - we love each other! We always have! Eclipse - sister!”

Eclipse turned away, her voice grating horribly with pain. “That is exactly…why…I mst must say… ‘no’. I must protect you. I love you.”

“I don’t care!” Cried Nightlight, her grief turning to anger. “I don’t care! I won’t lose you too! Don’t you see?! You’re all I have left! Don’t do this to me!” She cried, her voice bordering on a shriek.

Eclipse looked at her solemnly. “…very…well. I promise…that I will only let you go…if it is the only way that I can keep you safe.”

Nightlight sagged, realizing that this was the best promise that she was going to get. “All right. It’s a deal.”

Eclipse nodded. “Cross…the word…of my…vocalizer…and hope…to go…to the Pit.”


	2. Swords and Claws

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Years after tehy are sold as Sparklings, sisters Nightlight and Eclipse eke out a living in the brutal underground of Kaon. As Nightlight grows to fear mechs, Eclipse finds an outlet for her anger and fear in the form of the gladiator pits to which she was sent by her buyer. She is renamed "Solaris" and earns a fearsome reputation in the dark city of Kaon. Meanwhile, a young Enforcer is captured by thugs and discovers the beginnings of a massive force.

In between the softly glowing bars of a large enclosure, round, scarlet optics glowed. They mixed with the dimming light of a pair of sun-yellow optics, finely formed and marked around the edges with scarlet paint. Another, barely discernible shade of red, glowed from the neck, wrists, and legs of the femme that lay against the back of the enclosure. Around her stalked the skeletal shapes of silver and white shelled felines with glowing red Christmas tree-ornament eyes. They were almost as large as the femme was tall, and she was not small by any means for a femme. One of her clawed servos rested on the back of one fanged creature, gently stroking it. Near where her arm joined her strong shoulder a huge gash had been opened, leaking purple fluids. The skeletal crio cats bent their ghastly heads to lap up the gelatinous liquid, growl-purring and rubbing their heads on the femme’s chin as though to console her. More wounds leaked purple in less copious amounts from smaller rents on her arms, legs, and one on the side of her fiercely beautiful face.

“Yeah, I got a bit too close on that…ow…last pass,” murmured the sun-bright femme, scratching absently at the jaw of the nearest crio cat.

“Maybe…should…practice that…dodge-jab move a bit…more. Ow.”

The cats’ only response was to lick delicately at a piece of plating on Solaris’ torn faceplate. The flap of cybermetal curled back to cover the resulting opening of its own accord. Tiny fibers melded with its underside and made a tender patch.

“Thanks, boys.” Solaris said softly, patting the metallic sides of the largest crio cat, a one opticked male with a bent tail. He growled disapprovingly at the gash on her side, as though berating her for getting hurt.

“What. Just…oh, good, sweet Primus!”

Solaris closed her yellow optics. “Hello, sister.” She said, without turning her head.

Nightlight almost dropped the tray of medical supplies that she was holding. Recovering herself, she sprang forward lightly to the door of the enclosure. Cursing softly, she produced a datastick from her hip compartment and opened the dingy gate.

The huge crio cats snarled, their silver and white tails lashing. As one, they turned to face the intruder.

“Easy, boys; easy. It’s sister-friend. She won’t hurt me; see, she smells like me.” Solaris said gently, petting the bristling, taut tendons of the lead cat’s shoulders. Softly snarling, the crio cats stepped closer, heads lowered to scent the biolights of the other femme. Satisfied of her identity, the skeletal cats backed up, forming a path to her sister’s prone shape.

Solaris dragged herself into a sitting position as Nightlight approached, she grimaced and clutched at her side.

“You…pugnacious moron!” Moaned Nightlight, her violet optics wide. “This is almost as bad as when you fought that monster Shadowstriker-“

“Hrk-let’s not-bring up the past,” groaned the gold and orange femme. “Sides, what does ‘pug…what’sit’ even mean?” 

Nightlight smiled. She carefully filled a syringe with a pale green liquid. “It means ‘territorial’ and ‘bloodthirsty’.”

“Great.”

“Hold still. I’m going to stick you in the main neck flow-valve. Brace yourself,”

“Pfft. I’m a gladiator; I can take it.”

Nightlight smiled and put the syringe’s point into her sister’s neck. “I know you can; I just figured that you’ve had enough pain this solar without having another nasty surprise.”

“Hmm.” Solaris hummed, her optics closed. She relished the feeling of the pain receptors responding to the sedative in the green liquid. Gradually, the biting, edgy feeling surrounding the rents in her armor as the pain receptors nullified themselves, disappeared and she felt like she had no body to worry about.

Nightlight gently slid back the panels surrounding the huge rent in her sister’s midsection. She knitted her fair brows as she carefully peeled back the cybermetal. Something was already eroding the delicate wiring around the wound, seeping deeper and deeper into the femme’s slim body.

She winced, taking in the extent of the damage. It was unfortunately very extensive; evidently it had been at work for some time. If Solaris had been able to hold still and have someone syphon it off immediately after she had received the injury, there would have been a lot less to do. As it was, Nightlight was going to have to re-wire a good portion of her bio systems and replace a lot of the thinner, more flexible armor on her middle. It would take at least two weeks to finish, and that was only if someone did not try to interfere with Nightlight’s medical ministrations. And Nightlight still was not completely certain that the vampiric crio cats surrounding her sister would not get a little…over enthusiastic with their own ministrations. They might decide that Solaris was not worth their time.

But as much as Nightlight wanted to stay and look after her sister as she healed, she was expected back any moment. And if Gambit found out how badly Solaris was hurt; that she would not be back in the ring for a good week or so, even for training...

“Frag,” cursed Nightlight softly.

With a last gentle pat to Solaris’ helm, Nightlight ducked back through the crowd of skeletal, metallic cats and closed the door behind her.

“I’ll come back, Eclipse; don’t worry about that.”

 

Lights flickered in and out of reach as he was dragged on his back, the rough, scraped metal of the alleys through which he was being hauled, scraping his finish. His sky-blue optics shuttered absently, too low on power to really register the iron girders interspersed with daylight that passed above him.

Eerily he realized that energon was beginning to leak from a gash on his shoulder, opening wider when it was bumped and jarred by his journey through the dark alleys of Kaon. Pain registered dully in his fritzing processor, reminding him of what he had been doing before coming to part wakefulness. A late patrol, silence, peace…then blaster bolts had broken the sanctity of the night and he had gone down.

Tide struggled to keep his processor clicking along, his systems still in shock from the blasts. Slowly and methodically he began to scan his surroundings with his optics still closed. So far, he was still near the planet’s surface, the foundations of the huge, city skyscrapers interspersed with smaller businesses. Here, the buildings were smaller, with shallower foundations. Some with no foundations at all. Shacks leaned against stronger structures, with rusty bots seeking shelter beneath their ragged edges from the acid rain. Some called to the few bots that passed by, haggling for credits or dekijees for some highgrade energon or a VR experience. As they got further and further from the City Center, the shacks became larger and the hagglers more persistent, pushing questionable wares to the stragglers passing by.

Tide shuttered his optics. _Lovely_. The best part of town.

He scanned the Sparks of the two mechs dragging him along, hoping to find a match in the Enforcer database. One came up blank, while the other was soon tagged as a known ringmaster and gladiator dealer. The two guards dogging his footsteps were - not surprisingly - hired thugs. The first had at least ten deaths to his name, while the other was going on thirty.

_Hmm._ Bringing the second “guard” and the ringmaster in might just get him the promotion he needed to catch up with Blaze. However, judging by the ringing in his audios, his frazzled vision, and the gashes on his legs, shoulder, and sides, he was not going to be apprehending any of these bots unless he managed to call for backup.

This just got better and better.

Tide sighed a little and opened his optics again. A small building passed by on his right, the front painted bright blue. A ragged canopy hung over a balcony in front and garishly painted femmes lounged on it and around the doors. They whistled and grinned approvingly at the five mechs passing by. The unknown mech ignored them while the ringmaster blew kisses and trilled back, smirking. The two guards following Tide’s prone form eyed the beautiful females but kept their mouths shut.

A small scuffle broke out around the double doors of the building and a beautiful, dark brown, lavender, and gold femme broke through the throng. A scratched up and disreputable-looking mech followed her, stumbling through the tittering femmes in her wake. She ignored his calls and fairly flew on dainty pedes across the street, disappearing into a small alley.

The two guards following Tide and his captors turned to watch her progress, noting her exquisite design and light build, wide optics and bright biolights. One gave a low whistle while the other grinned wolfishly. A bark of command from the unknown mech dragging Tide brought them rather unwillingly to attention once more.

Tide’s optics widened in concern when two more mechs shoved their way through the double doors of the brothel, both holding tethers, neutralizers, and what looked suspiciously like a small tracking device. They ignored the irate lover and followed the dark femme into the alley. A fourth mech slipped out of the double doors and began to apologize to the patron.

Tide glared coldly at the sleazy looking pair of mechs. Those bastards deserved what he would bring down on them.

He swallowed his regurgitated, partially processed energon. From what his systems stats had to say, that was unfortunately not going to happen anytime soon. Pain was encroaching on his consciousness once more, the rubble in the street tearing at his wounds, making them bigger. Energon seeped into the torn wires and metal tendons in his back and shoulders, sending uncomfortable spasms through his abused frame.

When he was not badly wounded and on his backstrut, Tide would stand at an impressive two helms above most mid-sized mechs. His angular faceplate bore a dark blue oval on the forehead, his optics glittered a beautiful blue, and his helm was a carefully made mesh of different layers of plate metal. His paintjob was black and white, interspersed with sky blue highlights. His large servos were black and his biolights matched his optics. His well-tractioned tires, large frame, back-mounted jets, and wings identified him as a triple changer, or a Cybertronian who could transform into two different alt forms.

From the twinges that he was receiving from his shoulders, he guessed that both wings were at least partially disabled...if not severed completely. He struggled to get them to respond.

_Just a little twitch,_ he pleaded silently. _Just…give me a sign, please Primus. You gave me my wings_ and _my wheels; please let me keep them._

Nothing happened. Liquid slid down his back, leaving a horrible wet feeling under the tough plate armor. Flying was out then, and driving would take too long. He shivered. Having no access to his wings made him feel vulnerable, almost naked.

Tide winced as his left wrist was yanked viciously by the unknown and unsavory mech dragging him along. Tide looked up slowly, the better to see what the other Cybertronian was doing.

He was stretching to reach a keypad on the dingy wall of a low building. Tide squinted, straining to make out the string of numbers and letters, but could not catch the whole code. Seconds later, the doors grated open and with several jostling motions, Tide was dragged over the uneven threshold. He immediately went limp again, allowing his optics to dim slightly. Through the slitted covers and blurry, dark vision, Tide could make out the vague forms of machinery. Pulleys, assembly line treads and the bent arms of machines paused in the act of assemblage. Chains from decommissioned pieces of machinery hung from the ceiling, clanking together in the sweltering wind from outside. As they neared the center of the building, Tide spotted large, vaguely humanoid shapes lurking in the darker corners. Scarlet, yellow, and purple optics glared at him from all sides, accompanied by the clink of weapons.

The two mechs dragging Tide turned so that he was facing the wall opposite from the doors that they had entered and flung him face-first to the ground. Keeping up his game, Tide allowed his face to make contact with the grimy floor. It ground into his faceplate, mashing his brows into the sharp, lower section of his helm. New cuts began to bleed purple as the two guards came up behind him and seized him by his wounded shoulders, yanking him to his knees. Two more mechs appeared and secured Tide’s servos behind his back.

“Lord, here is the interloper.” A grating voice said, coming from Tide’s right. He surmised that it must be either the ringmaster or the unknown mech who had keyed in the access codes at the door.

“Ah. You said he was weak, and yet he has not cried out. I am impressed,” a cold, strangely melodious voice said. It seemed to vibrate through Tide’s frame, conveying a sense of the speaker’s size. Judging by the pitch, it belonged to a mech.

“He allowed us to capture him! The fool wandered too far from one of his fellow Enforcers’ bases, and-”

“I care not for your explanations; I summoned him here to speak with him myself, not to hear your endless prattle.”

Tide dared to open his optics by a few centimeters. He beheld a great, slate gray mech, patterned with black and scarlet markings, draped with four great heli blades, a huge fusion cannon mounted on his arm, and searing red optics.

His austere faceplate was streaked with scarlet stripes, and two black strokes over his optics marked his optic ridges. He gazed keenly into Tide’s abused faceplate, not permitting him to get an inconspicuous look.

“So. You are one of the three brothers that I have heard so much about,” the gray mech surmised, tilting his hard, brutal helm the better to look at Tide. “Which one would you be? Blaze, the warrior; Surge, the tactician; or Tide, the scholar?”

Tide tilted his helm, the better to match the warlord’s stare. “What does it matter which one I am?”

The gray mech smirked, his optics glinting cruelly. “So that I may report to his brothers that I have their third member, and to demand ransom.”

Tide gave a short bark of laughter. “Slagging likely! They would see it as an insult to our honor. What’s more, as Enforcers we understand…” he coughed, his lips tinged purple. Recovering himself, he glared up at the warlord, all sign of amusement gone. “…We understand the danger of wearing the badge; we have _always_ known it. We…*cough*…trained for the day that we would either retire from the service with honor, or die on the field.”

The huge mech hummed, as if in approval. “I commend your fidelity, and I see that you have a fighting Spark. You are too sensible to be Blaze, the youngest and most inexperienced of the three. Perhaps you are Surge?”

Tide glared at him, his optics slitted, making no reply.

The Kaonite warlord matched his stare, irritation beginning to show in his scarlet optics. “On the other servo, you are too brave and stupid to be Surge. You would have tried to trick me into letting you go to a less defended area, or fooled me into making a fake deal with your fellow Enforcers. Whereupon you would escape with them, leaving me with no information or credits.”

Tide forced a laugh. It grated through his vocalizer, forcing a gob of purple which collided with the warlord’s faceplate. “That’s rich! ‘Too stupid to be Surge’…ptah!” He grinned, a ghastly sight. Then he sobered once more, his keen optics taking on a deadly light. “You know who I am, but who do I have the pleasure of spitting on? You look a bit dingy to be a ringmaster or a senator,”

The gray mech’s optics hardened. Ignoring the purple staining his faceplate, he growled at Tide. “My designation is Megatronus. ‘Lord Megatronus’ to the likes of you,” he hissed, his clawed digits tearing into the softer cybermetal around Tide’s left optic.

The young mech ignored the searing pain. Not even flinching or trying to close his endangered optic, Tide locked his blue gaze with the warlord’s red one.

“Now. Tell me what I want to know, _Tide_. What are the codes that you use to enter your primary base in Kaon?”

“That’s on a ‘need to know’ basis, and _you_ don’t need to know,” Tide grated out, trying to keep the pain out of his voice. 

Megatronus smirked, digging his talon deeper. “What frequencies do you use to communicate?”

Tide smirked back. “You already know. You’ve been blocking my radio this whole time.”

Megatronus smiled. It quickly turned into a snarl. “Well. We will just have to return to the original question. Now, what. Is. The. Access. Code?”

With each word, the gray warlord made a new, deeper gash on Tide’s face. Soon purple liquid, wires, and small pieces of metal were sliding in a gelatinous mess down what remained of Tide’s faceplate. Even now, he made no sound.

Megatronus’ face contorted. “Brainpicker! Shockwave! Get over here and try him yourself,”

Two surly looking mechs came forward: one was yellow and green with a hideously bestial faceplate, forever frozen in a snarl. The other was blocky and purple, with no faceplate and a single, stoplight-like optic.

Tide glanced quickly at them out of the corner of his optic. Coming to a decision, he addressed Megatronus. “Tired of scrapping me yourself? Probably better. I think that these two don’t mind getting their digits dirty,” he smirked, trying to force some fire into his voice.

Megatronus surveyed him coldly. “Believe what you will. I need those codes if I am to attack your base this evening, Enforcer. I will do whatever is necessary to get them.”

The mech that Megatronus had called Shockwave dragged a thick, softly glowing cable across the floor toward them, closely followed by Brainpicker.

Tide flexed his right servo. It still functioned, and the cables were strong enough for what he had to do…

_I’m sorry, Surge. Take care of Blaze and Pirouette for me once I’m gone,_ he thought quietly, wishing that his brother could hear him. Quickly, he twisted his wrist at an obscure angle, the specially made joint clicking into place. A split second later and both his servos were free. His right one sought the hilt of his dagger, mounted securely at the small of his backstrut. With a soft hiss of metal, the blade leaped from its sheath. Tide brought it around his own body with practiced ease and plunged it into Megatronus’ side. Following it up quickly, Tide leaped up, ramming the top of his helm into the warlord’s chin.

Megatronus roared. Moving backward, the better to get a good angle for a punch, Megatronus unintentionally allowed his guards room to attack Tide. One shot him in the chest, the other brought his sword down on the Enforcer’s helm.

Megatronus’ fist changed direction and hit the second guard in the faceplate. He crumpled to the ground, moaning. Megatronus flicked the resulting purple droplets from his black servo. “I _needed_ him, you idiot! WITHOUT a sword in his processor!”

The first guard - very sensibly stayed quiet - accepting his lord’s words and furious glare.

Megatronus whipped around to impale the ringmaster and his assistants with his gaze. “ _Fools_. You neglected to remove all weapons from his frame before bringing him in for interrogation. Which one of you condoned this foolish oversight?”

The unnamed mech with the ringmaster cleared his vocalizer awkwardly. “I believe that I condoned the…inaction our guards took after we accosted him. We…I thought that, since he was unconscious at the time, and we were to have him securely bound before we brought him before your lordship, that it was unnecessary to remove such a small armament from his frame,” he finished, shuffling his pedes uncomfortably.

Megatronus’ scarlet gaze slid slowly from his crony’s faceplate down to Tide’s prostrate form. He prodded it with one sharp ped, his face expressionless.

Tide’s limp body did not respond.

Megatronus calmly pulled the dagger from his side. After considering it, he slid it back into its sheath on the Enforcer’s back. “Honor may it do you when I present your Sparkless frame to your brothers,” the warlord proclaimed, his voice emotionless. There was a slight pause. “ _Well_? Don’t just stand there; pick him up and move him to somewhere more convenient. I want him put up in the City Center by nightfall the solar after next.”

His cronies scurried to oblige, and - their duties performed - to escape their lord’s anger. Tide’s motionless frame eventually ended up in a secluded corner of the warehouse. Purple liquid still leaked from it, and a silvery substance glittered from the hole in his chestplate. His shattered, dull optics glowed with a few amps of energy, redirected from the offline systems in his torso.

Several hours passed in relative silence. Then a dark figure slipped out of the shadows. Nightlight climbed expertly down the chains hanging from the ceiling, the window in the roof above her slightly ajar. Almost on her hands and knees, Nightlight crept closer to Tide, her violet optics wide. Once she reached him, she gently slid his optic covers closed. Her gentle features darkened. “So young…so very young,” she rasped, sadness in her voice. A loud clang and a cry from the center of the warehouse jerked her back to harsh reality. Quickly, she slid the dagger from his waist and, not having anywhere else to put it, took the sheath as well. She clicked it into place at the accessory mount on her hip, and slid back to the wall. After waiting a few seconds to make sure that the coast was clear, Nightlight climbed carefully back up to the window. Moments later, a soft glow emanated from outside the roof window, then it faded and was gone.


End file.
